


Dark Shadows

by JJKMagic



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, M/M, Pre-Slash, Supernatural Elements, Violence, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 12:23:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15796464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJKMagic/pseuds/JJKMagic
Summary: McCree travels to the town of Petras after learning of a vicious vampire attack: Camomilla, the resident vampire, apparently attacked without warning, even though she had been a peaceful resident of the town for decades.When McCree arrives he doesn't find Camomilla, but he finds a demon who seems to be looking for her as well.Seeing as they have the same goal, McCree offers to accompany him.





	Dark Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my entry to this year's McHanzo Reverse Bang!  
> The fic is based on the idea and art of the wonderful [Valhaart](https://valhaart.tumblr.com/)!  
> Check her out, especially her Reverse Bang art, it's amazing!
> 
> Meanwhile I gotta warn you that the fic is not as edited as I would have liked, so please apologize typos, especially toward the end of the fic xD

**Dark Shadows  
**

 

The town of Petras was not exactly a place anyone would describe as  _ idyllic _ .

 

Row after row of depressingly grey stone buildings lined up so perfectly they evoked a stifling sensation of oppression. The perpetual cover of grey clouds looming over the city at all times made for an eerie atmosphere all around. What little light did make it through the constant cover of clouds only managed to cause weirdly deformed shadows to spill into the narrow streets.

 

McCree shivered involuntarily as he passed yet another street of identical grey row houses.

Towns like that appeared all over the land recently. McCree didn't like them one bit. They looked too fabricated, too perfect, missing all the charm and diversity of otherwise quaint little villages and towns. Petras was especially bad. Combined with the fact that the land was known for its dreary weather **–** a glimpse of sun a sadly rare occurrence **–** the grey stone covering the town from its streets up to the roofs of every single building made the town look lifeless,  _ ominous  _ in a way. Definitely not McCree's choice for his next vacation, not that hunters like him even had those.

 

He pushed the increasingly uneasy feeling in his chest down as he ventured further into Petras. The town's oppressive atmosphere seemed to affect even its inhabitants. Even if night was slowly approaching it was still unusual that he didn't encounter a single soul out and about. The town might have seemed lifeless but it also wasn't exactly small. Surely there were at least some night owls among the townsfolk, or at least one insomniac soul out for an evening stroll.

 

But the streets of Petras remained empty. With no chance of chatting up the common townsfolk McCree would just have to start his usual round of gossip hunting in a more frequented place.

 

It didn't take long for him to stumble upon the perfect place as he walked further into the town, although at first glance he wasn't even sure what he was seeing.

 

There, in the middle of grey monotone stone walls was a cozy little tavern. That in itself was not unusual until he realized that it was the only wooden building as far as the eye could see, obviously much much older than the rest of the surrounding town. It looked so out of place that it seemed like someone had just suddenly decided to build a town around this one little house, for whatever reason that might have been.

 

It confused McCree for all of a second before he remembered why he was here, and it certainly wasn't to judge the architecture. So he walked right up to "The Old Maid", stepping through its equally peculiar batwing doors.

 

He stopped short, his gaze immediately drawn to a most unusual patron.

 

There in the middle of the room, seemingly unbothered, was an honest to God  _ demon _ , a bulk of a creature whose sheer mass took its toll on the poor table it was leaning against.

 

The demon's empty glowing eyes focused on McCree as he entered but quickly lost interest, returning to gaze in the general direction of the bar.

 

The other patrons seemed unbothered by the demon's presence even though it didn't try to conceal its true nature, so McCree decided not to be bothered either. He had more important business to attend to.

 

He approached the bar and took a seat, going for nonchalance even though it was impossible to ease into the topic he was going to inquire about.

 

"You serving any good bourbon around here?"

 

The barkeeper looked him up and down for a moment before wordlessly preparing a glass.

 

McCree took a moment to appreciate the smell of the amber liquid before taking a sip, relishing the slight burn it brought with it.

 

"I heard there has been a rather  _ unsightly  _ incident recently."

 

The barkeeper’s look turned scrutinizing for a moment before he shook his head softly.

 

"No need to play coy if you're here for Camomilla, hunter." McCree hid his surprise at his target's name being voiced so openly. "Yer right. A right bloody mess that was but it's been quiet ever since. No one who values his life can be bothered to find out why it happened though. I certainly won't."

 

"No one expects you to. That's what I'm here for, after all," McCree said reassuringly, a cocky grin on his face. "I could use some input, though, to get this sorted out as fast as possible."

 

The barkeeper looked at him skeptically, almost pitiful in fact.

 

"Wouldn't even send a hunter in there, all alone. If yer so eager though, you can't miss her castle if you just follow the street to the end. The gate's unlocked, 's what I heard at least. I sure as hell didn't check."

 

"Don't you worry about me none. I've been in this business for a while," McCree reassured again, though the barkeeper just shook his head as it if was just as likely that McCree was just insane, rather than that he actually knew what he was doing.

 

McCree merely took another drink of his bourbon before getting up.

 

"Thank ya kindly for your help," he said, leaving a few coins, and tipping his hat in farewell.

 

"God be with you, hunter," the barkeeper called after him, still convinced that he was marching straight into his own demise. McCree just pulled his hat lower. If someone was watching over him these days, it sure as hell wasn't God.

 

He was so occupied with the information he had gotten that he didn't even realize that there was no demon in the tavern when he left.

 

\---------------------

 

The barkeeper had been right. Seeing the crossroad that the street eventually ended in, it seemed like they all ultimately led to the castle. He also had been right about another thing. It was a right mess, bloody, disfigured corpses that no one could be bothered to get rid of had started rotting away right where they had died. Dispersed among them was rubble, wood splinters, cracked and broken glass and porcelain. It seemed like whatever the incident had exactly been it had happened while the townsfolk had held a market in front of the castle. The place had been trashed and those who had not been fast enough had either been killed or buried beneath the collapsing market stands.

 

Not a pretty sight indeed. The houses closest to the disaster had been deserted, turning the place even more eerie than the rest of the city.

 

McCree carefully walked across the rubble, taking care not to step on any of the dead, seeing as they had already been bereft of their dignity. Hopefully they'd be buried eventually, preferably before scavenger beetles and other scavenging animals had had their fill…

 

He approached the gate on the other side of the market. Its primary purpose was obviously an artistic one rather than one of safety. The single rods of metal were twisted artfully and decorated with flowers and ranks of ivy and, above all, they offered a perfect view of the castle courtyard beyond. As such, it might even have looked inviting if only it wasn't for the bloody handprints. But were they from people who had attempted to flee or from the instigator themselves as they had returned from their mindless hunt? 

 

There was no way to know, though the barkeeper had been right about this too. The gate was unlocked, in fact it stood slightly ajar, practically inviting him in. Not that McCree would have been discouraged even if it had been locked. He passed the gate, entering the empty castle yard. 

 

The sun had almost set at this point, throwing eerily long shadows in its last attempt to brighten the world. Nothing lived in the courtyard, neither plant nor tree. Presumably it had been that way for years. The only thing of note was the rubble, massive chunks of stone all lying over the courtyard. Maybe they had been sculptures at some point but there was no way to tell what they had originally looked like.

 

As McCree attempted to climb over the rubble to enter the castle itself he was suddenly overcome with the feeling that he was not alone anymore.

 

“Are you alone, hunter?” 

 

He swiveled around at the sudden sound of a voice and  _ stared _ .

 

Some feet away stood the very demon he had seen at the tavern earlier, except somehow… it seemed much smaller now. Maybe McCree’s eyes were just playing tricks on him. He hadn’t paid the demon any special attention back then, even though he was pretty sure that the sheer bulk of the creature was what had caught his attention in the first place.

 

“That’s brave of you, but alas, Lady Camomilla is no longer here,” the demon said, ignoring McCree’s lack of a reaction.

 

“How would you know?” McCree asked in return, not yet sure what he was supposed to think about the demon approaching him like this.

 

“Because I’m looking for her myself, however during my week-long stay here she has not returned to her castle once. It is safe to assume she has abandoned it for good.”

 

“How did you know I was even looking for her?”

 

“What else would a hunter want here? There’s no other supernatural activity for miles and there hasn’t been for years. Although when I saw you were alone I had my doubts.”

 

“Why is that?” McCree wanted to know, his hackles raising at the demon’s haughty demeanor. 

 

The demon only  _ smirked  _ at him.

 

“Did they not tell you hunter?”

 

“Tell me  _ what _ ?” McCree barked, fed up with the demon’s little mind games.

 

“Camomilla is one of the  _ old ones _ .” 

 

McCree actually paled. No, no one had bothered to mention that little tidbit of information before sending him out here. 

 

“She has lived for more than a thousand years. Whatever tricks you planned to use to subdue her, they won’t work.” The demon looked at him, all high and mighty, clearly expecting McCree to come up with a retort in his defense or a declaration of his superior skill. When none came and McCree remained quiet, lost in his own thoughts at the revelation, the demon’s expression fell.

 

“You really did not know,” the demon said and if he didn’t know better McCree would have said it sounded  _ sympathetic _ .

 

“I did not. What’s it to you? Why are you telling me this?”

 

The demon averted his gaze, suddenly appearing more interested in Petras’ architecture than the hunter in front of him.

 

“Because I can. And maybe so your life can be spared.”

 

The response had McCree at a loss and when the demon turned to him once more McCree couldn’t read his expression. Not that it was easy to begin with when his mind constantly tried to fill him with awe whenever he so much as glanced at the powerful creature in front of him. Still, he almost thought he saw  _ fury  _ there, in the demon’s glowing bottomless eyes, though it was not directed at him.

 

“I always thought you hunters were at least loyal to each other, but it seems I was mistaken.”

 

Understanding dawned on McCree but the revelation of what the demon’s expression might mean still baffled him. Was the demon offended?  _ For McCree? _

 

“Go home, hunter. This is not your battle,” the demon said, drawing McCree from his reverie.

 

“Hold on now. Sorry, but no can do. I might need to change my plans sure, but it in no way means that I’m gonna abandon the job.”

 

The demon’s eyes narrowed, clearly displeased.

 

“That is a foolish endeavor, all on your lonesome.”

 

“Might be,” McCree agreed easily. He was not exactly known to be the most reasonable person. Some might even say he was rather foolhardy instead. As if to prove his point McCree got a sudden idea. It was a foolish one, unlikely to be successful but he tried regardless. “Although I hear I’m not the only one searching for Camomilla these days…”

 

The demon’s eyebrows rose in obvious surprise. It made him look weirdly human.

 

“What are you implying?”

 

“I’m already indebted to you at this point. It would only be fair I accompany you until I find a proper way to repay you. If, say, you would happen to wander in the direction you suspect a certain someone to be that you happen to be searching for… well, that would happen to be beneficial to me as well. I mean, it just sounds like a good idea to me, don’t you think?”

 

The demon was downright staring at him at this point, his expression… bemused if McCree had to guess.

 

“A demon and a hunter joining forces?”

 

“I wouldn’t go that far quite yet. Consider it a truce.”

 

“A truce?” The demon grinned, and for some unfathomable reason McCree’s heart skipped a beat. “Why, I didn’t even know we were at war, hunter.”

 

McCree grinned.

 

“Is that a yes?”

 

The demon turned around before McCree could be sure if his eyes were playing tricks on him again or if the demon’s expression actually softened.

 

“I hear humans aren’t exactly nocturnal,” the demon said, slowly walking back toward the city street. “I’ll be leaving the town at dawn tomorrow. What you do with that information is up to you.”

 

“Sure thing, darling,” McCree replied, tipping his hat even though the demon couldn’t see it.

 

With that the demon left, but McCree couldn’t stop grinning. Trusting a demon was a crazy idea but with what he had learned during their short conversation he was pretty sure it would be fine. It would definitely be interesting either way.

 

\---------------------

 

There was not much that McCree carried with him while on a job. As such there was not much he had to take stock off before he was off and headed toward the city gate at the crack of dawn.

 

McCree kept looking around but he saw no one except for the town guard stationed at the gate. It was the same one who had let him into the city yesterday but it was not who McCree was looking for. He tried to suppress his disappointment.

 

“Good morning, Sir,” he greeted the guard.

 

“Ah, the hunter. Any success?” the man asked, straightening up from his resting position.

 

“The city should be safe. My target has most likely left. I’ll have to leave and hunt it down elsewhere. Thank you for your help.”

 

The guard smile, shaking his head.

 

“No need to thank me. We are the ones grateful for the help. It was truly gruesome what happened there,” he said. “Here, let me open the gate for you.”

 

McCree watched him move to open the gate as he remembered something.

 

“The castle is safe to approach now. You could start recovering your lost ones now and prepare a proper burial for them.”

 

The guard paused, turning slowly to look at him, eyes somber.

 

“You are right. We should… we should definitely do that.”

 

McCree wanted to ask if he had been closed with any of the deceased but it wasn’t his place. Instead he waited for the gate to be opened and merely tipped his hat in farewell when he passed.

 

“Thank you for everything,” the guard said once more before the gate fell closed again.

 

McCree took a deep breath before looking ahead. There was not much to see. Petras was mostly surrounded by farmland, lots of fields owned by local peasants but in return not much of interest for McCree.

 

He was about to give up and head out on his own, when he caught a glance of something. At first it only seemed like a shadow but then McCree smiled, recognizing the figure sitting off to the side of the gate.

 

The demon’s eyes were close.. In the light of the rising sun his skin seemed to glow. He was almost… beautiful in a way.

 

“Enjoying the quiet of the morning?”

 

The demon shifted minutely.

 

“It’s called meditating.”

 

McCree grinned, walking up to him.

 

“Isn’t that the same?” he asked teasingly.

 

The demon sighed, empty eyes opening to look up at him.

 

“I doubt it’s the same to you,” he said, looking just the slightest bit annoyed. “Are you trying to make me regret waiting here for you?”

 

McCree’s expression softened. Thinking back on his disappointment when he didn’t see the demon on the other side of the gate, he realized he had been looking forward to this. This demon who for some reason had seemed  _ worried  _ about him even though he really had no reason to. In fact, he had more reason to  _ hate  _ McCree than offer his help, as indirectly as he had done so.

 

“No, darling. Just trying to get your attention.”

 

The demon blinked. He seemed surprised, if McCree read him right.

 

“You have it,” he replied eventually. “Are you ready to leave?”

 

McCree looked across the surrounding fields once more.

 

“Sure am. Do you know where we should go?”

 

The demon scoffed.

 

“Certainly more than you do.”

 

McCree turned in time to see the demon raise up in one fluid motion until he was towering over the hunter.

 

Definitely not a trick of the eye then, McCree thought. Just yesterday evening he had been able to look him in the eyes, now he had to crane his head to take him in entirely.

 

McCree chose not to comment on it. Instead he tipped his head.

 

“After you then.”

 

He was answered with another huff before the demon started walking determinedly. McCree simply fell in line. Apart from the demon’s word he had not much to work with. On his own he probably would have been lost at this point, trying to come up with a lead on where to head from here. He definitely wasn’t opposed to having a guide instead, even if said guide was a little grumpy  _ and  _ of demonic nature.

 

McCree smiled to himself. For now he wasn’t worried. Instead he used the time to watch the demon at his side, tall and massive as he currently was. Why had he appeared so small yesterday. What was the purpose of disguising his size when all other demonic features remained? Why was he even here in the first place? Petras was in the middle of nowhere, the demon had said so himself. Apparently no other supernatural creatures were drawn to this place either, only Camomilla who had been living here for centuries.

 

Realizing there was no point in staying quiet, McCree decided to just ask.

 

“What is a demon doing all the way out here anyway?”

 

The demon scoffed haughtily.

 

“Not a demon, an  _ oni _ .”

 

McCree actually whistled in surprise. He was no expert in demons but if he knew anything then this guy was very far from home.

 

“I’m afraid you’re only making me more curious here,” McCree said cheekily.

 

McCree couldn’t exactly tell but he was pretty sure the demon just rolled his eyes.

 

“It’s none of your business.”

 

McCree hummed, unbothered.

 

“Guess not. But we’re also companions for now so it might not be bad to, I dunno, learn a little about each other?”

 

The demon’s piercing gaze met his and for a moment McCree feared he had actually upset him, but then the demon just sighed.

 

“I was looking for someone else when I heard what happened with Camomilla.”

 

“Have you known her for long?” McCree asked.

 

It was too early for him to say that he understood the demon. Why he allowed to a hunter to tag along when he clearly knew McCree’s target personally.

 

“I know her, yes, but I haven’t seen her in centuries,” the demon replied, his voice betraying no obvious emotions.

That was not much to go on but McCree doubted he’d get more information out of him. Did you still have a connection to someone you hadn’t seen in centuries? McCree probably wouldn’t even remember anyone he hadn’t seen that long, but he also couldn’t imagine living that long in the first place.

 

McCree focused on the way ahead of them. They were headed to the west at this point. He knew for a fact that there was nothing in that direction for days, nothing but fields and the occasional forest.

 

“So… why are you so sure she went this way?” he asked eventually, not out of distrust but mere curiosity. 

 

The demon didn’t bother to stop or look at him as he replied easily: ”Vampires rarely travel in the direction the sun rises in, unless they're forced too.”

 

McCree’s eyes widened. In all his years as a hunter he had never made that connection. How could this demon know so much more about this than McCree who made his living finding vampires and other creatures.

 

“Do you guys all just have... an intrinsic understanding of other supernatural creatures?”

 

The demon merely scoffed.

 

“No, but I've actually  _ talked  _ to vampires before. Something you hunters clearly are not capable of.”

 

McCree raised his arms in fake surrender.

 

“Guilty as charged. Though, in my defense, the ones I meet normally are the ones charging straight at me. Not exactly the best opportunity for a nice little round of tea.”

 

The demon scoffed again, but he sounded more amused than annoyed, throwing McCree a sideways glance.

 

“Are you done with your round of questioning?”

 

McCree laughed.

 

“Sure, just one more thing.”

 

The demon stopped walking, surprising McCree who almost ran into him.

 

“What?” the demon asked.

 

“Nothing serious,” McCree replied quickly, smiling honestly. “Just wanted to know how far it is to the next town.”

 

The demon definitely did roll his eyes then, and continued walking.

 

“About three days. Why, tired already?”

 

The hunter just laughed again.

 

“I just like to be prepared is all,” he answered honestly.

 

It was the demon’s turn to hum, the conversation apparently over.

 

McCree didn’t mind. In fact, he was feeling pretty good right now. He had never had a partner before but, looking at the man at his side, he realized that he certainly wouldn’t mind.

 

\---------------------

 

“We’re almost there,” the demon said sometime during the third day of their journey.

 

McCree wasn’t sure what he was looking at there on the horizon that made him so sure of it but McCree saw no reason to question him. 

 

Their journey so far had been peaceful, pleasant even. The demon was snarky at times but never hostile. He wasn’t the most talkative either but he did usually humor McCree. They didn’t talk about important things, nothing personal but McCree found that the chance to talk to someone at all was immensely calming. It also made the time pass much faster.

 

The demon also enabled them to walk further than McCree would usually be able to on his own. When night arrived McCree usually had already prepared and set up camp, but the demon led him further. Only when it became too dark for McCree to see anything would they stop and the demon would take care of setting up the camp since he could see perfectly fine in the darkness.

 

McCree trusted him more with each passing day. He still didn’t know the oni was looking for Camomilla or why he had agreed to accompany McCree but it didn’t matter. He sensed no ill intent from him and in the end that was all that mattered to him. And that was exactly why it bothered him, and he had never dared ask before, with him being a demon at all but McCree was reaching his limit.

 

“You know,” he started innocently, “I… still don’t know what to call you.”

 

The demon stopped immediately, his head snapping around to look at him. McCree waited gauging his reaction. That piercing gaze was scrutinizing him, but then the demon just huffed.

 

“You never offered to introduce yourself either,” he observed, startling McCree.

 

Had he really never mentioned it? He was usually quick to introduce himself, even unprompted.

 

“You’re right. It completely slipped my mind, sorry,” McCree admitted quickly. “Let’s remedy that then, shall we? The name’s McCree, Jesse McCree.”

 

The demon just kept looking at him, long enough for McCree to start feeling uncomfortable. Then he hummed, as if reaching a conclusion.

 

“My name is Hanzo.”

 

McCree blinked, and blinked again.

 

“Is that okay? For you to tell me, I mean.”

 

_ Hanzo  _ looked at him as if he had grown a second head.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean, a demon’s name grants you the power to control it, right?”

 

Hanzo just stared at him again and then he laughed, honest to God laughed at him.

 

“I wouldn’t tell you  _ that  _ name, mortal,” he replied, still chuckling. “You’d have trouble even pronouncing it.”

 

McCree wasn’t offended. He would have been surprised to learn something so intimate just like that. It was the reason he had hesitated to ask in the first place.

 

“So it’s okay to call you that?”

 

Hanzo grinned at him.

 

“Yes, it’s perfectly fine to call me that. It’s not a secret.”

 

A smile spread on McCree’s face, the sound of Hanzo’s laughter still fresh in his mind.

 

“Thank you, for telling me.”

 

Hanzo merely shook his head, clearly still amused.

 

“You only had to ask.”

 

\---------------------

 

It took some more hours before McCree, too, saw the first signs of a town on the horizon. Even with their destination right in front of them, they were lucky to reach it before nightfall. McCree didn’t mind sleeping out in the open but doing so when a comfortable bed was practically right in front of him  _ was  _ disheartening.

 

They reached the town guard just in time to stop him from securing the gate for the night. He wasn’t happy, especially not about letting a demon in at such an ungodly time, even if he was accompanied by a hunter.

 

McCree already saw him closing the gate in front of them either way but the guard eventually relented and let them in.

 

The hunter sighed when they left the gate behind them.

 

“A bed sounds good right about now.”

 

Hanzo huffed, eyes on the street ahead.

 

“Aren’t you eager.”

 

McCree looked at him, unsure what to make of the demon’s tone.

 

“Aren’t you?”

 

“I’m indifferent,” Hanzo said curtly.

 

McCree kept watching him for a moment but let him be. Maybe he was upset about the town guard. He hadn’t exactly been nice, especially not to the demon.

 

Luckily they quickly found an inn situated at the edge of town whose owner greeted them heartily. He seemed completely unbothered by exactly  _ what  _ had just entered establishment. 

 

“You’ll be needing two rooms for the night, yes?” he asked eagerly.

 

McCree was about to affirm but Hanzo was faster to react.

 

“One will suffice,” the demon said decisively. “Do you have some blankets you could spare though?”

 

The owner blinked, obviously just as surprised as McCree was.

 

“Uh, sure. I’ll bring some up later.”

 

“Thank you,” Hanzo said, bowing slightly.

 

The man turned to McCree, obviously not sure how to react, and moved to hand him a key.

 

“It’s upstairs, at the end of the hall. I’ll be right with you to bring you the blankets.”

 

McCree nodded in thanks. Hanzo was already ahead of him, heading upstairs, so McCree followed him. He wanted to ask why Hanzo had denied the second room but the demon’s long stride was hard to catch up with. When McCree caught up with him he was already waiting for him to open the door and McCree felt stupid to ask just then, so he opened the door instead.

 

The room was small, a bed, a single window on the other side and not much else. Hanzo moved straight to the window, looking out, though McCree had no idea what he was looking for. The hunter set down his bag and the rest of his meager supplies before sitting on the bed. There really was not much to do in such a bland room.

 

The owner returned with blankets a few minutes later. Hanzo thanked him before starting to drape them across the floor next to the bed. 

 

McCree watched him do so with growing confusion.

 

“You could have had your own bed, you know?”

 

The demon let out a long-suffering sigh.

 

“Beds are not exactly made to carry my weight.”

 

McCree blinked, taken aback. He knew something was wrong with that but he wasn’t sure if he should bring it up. He sighed inwardly.

 

“You know… I have seen you change your appearance before. Why not do so now?”

 

Hanzo stopped fussing with his makeshift bed and sat back. He did not meet McCree’s eyes.

 

“I could,” the demon said slowly, “but it would require energy to keep up the appearance. I would rather just sleep than to bother with it.”

 

“Huh.”

 

McCree didn’t know what to say though he could understand the sentiment.

 

“Don’t worry about me. It’s fine, just go to sleep.”

 

McCree was about to do just that when something caught his attention. Hanzo moved to grab another and in doing so the soft moonlight streaming through the window hit his skin. McCree was stunned. Hanzo glowed in an ethereal blue though he knew his skin to be more gray in color. The demon had already removed his shirt earlier, and it only made him appear more otherworldly. 

 

McCree got caught on that broad back, the muscles there only emphasized by the soft light. It surprised him time and time again but the demon really was…  _ beautiful _ . There was no other word for it.

 

Realizing that he was staring McCree quickly averted his eyes, moving up to the window to distract himself.

 

The moon was bright, half full. McCree wondered if they would manage to find Camomilla before the next full moon, or if that was only wishful thinking.

 

“Something on your mind?”

 

McCree turned. Hanzo was apparently done and was now lay on the small army of blankets he had acquired. McCree wondered if it was weird of him to find that cute.

 

“Nothing”, he said, heading back to his bed. “Just hoping we will find something tomorrow.”

 

Hanzo hummed, settling down further.

 

“I should be able to find something of use, at least.”

 

McCree didn’t question him, though his confidence did surprise him. He pulled off his shirt and pants instead and settled down for the night himself.

 

\---------------------

 

McCree yawned, stretching his arms above his head and enjoying the sun on his skin. Hanzo looked less enthusiastic as he joined him in front of the inn.

 

“So, what are we doing now? How do we find our wayward vampire?”

 

Hanzo just shook his head, though there was the tiniest smile on his face.

 

“ _ You _ ,” he said, putting emphasis on the word, “are going to stock up and prepare for the journey ahead. I’ll see what I can find out.”

 

McCree’s eyes widened but he was even more surprised to realize that he had no intention to complain. He had to trust Hanzo in this situation, after all he had lead him here in the first place.

 

“That is all?” he asked.

 

“Yes, unless, of course, you believe humans to know more about vampire than other ‘supernatural creatures’ could,” Hanzo said mockingly.

 

McCree was more surprised that Hanzo was so sure of finding other creatures like him here.

 

“And you know how to find  _ those _ ?”

 

The demon squinted at him.

 

“Yes. I’m sure that’s a skill you’d like to have, hm?”

 

McCree was quick to raise his hands. While Hanzo supported his search for Camomilla he had made it known at several occasions that he did not tolerate hunters in general. There was a line there and McCree was careful not to overstep it.

 

“You do your thing. I’ll go stock up,” he said quickly.

 

Hanzo visibly relaxed.

 

“Wait outside the town, I’ll catch up as soon as I can.”

 

“Got it. See ya later,” McCree said. He tipped his hat, which Hanzo scoffed at, and headed off.

 

_ Anbor _ , as McCree learned the town was called, thankfully offered a variety of durable food that the hunter could stock up on. He also acquired a few additional flasks and filled them at the town’s water well.

 

With everything said and done he left the town about two hours after parting from Hanzo and settled down to wait.

 

\--------------------- 

 

The sun was high in the sky when Hanzo returned to McCree’s side.

 

“Our path leads us further to the west,” he said without preamble. “If Camomilla passed through here she didn’t contact anyone. But I learned of the location of someone who might be able to help.”

 

“And who might that be?” McCree asked curiously.

 

Hanzo hesitated, as if unsure how to reply.

 

“I’m afraid I’m not exactly sure. The werewolf I talked to didn’t reveal too many details but he said we’d know when we found them.”

 

“The werewolf?” McCree couldn’t help but ask. The mere mention causing dread to settle in his stomach.

 

Hanzo looked at him and his whole expression read disapproval.

 

“Yes, the  _ werewolf _ ,” he emphasized. “You would do well to keep any prejudice to yourself, hunter.”

 

McCree was too shaken to even defend himself. It wasn’t prejudice. He hunted werewolves the same as any other creature, only if they caused harm. But werewolves were also just… a lot more personal topic to McCree.

 

“Sorry, I just…” he started but trailed off. “How did you know it was a werewolf?”

 

Hanzo’s gaze first turned scrutinizing then mocking.

 

“You’re awfully curious about that, aren’t you?”

 

Hanzo was right. He was being too obvious, so McCree took a deep breath and shook his head.

 

“I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s none of my business,” McCree said though Hanzo’s eyes remained sceptic.

 

“It’s fine. We’d better get going, we have a long way ahead.”

 

McCree sighed silently, glad for the change of topic.

 

“How far?”

 

Hanzo hesitated again.

 

“He estimated about three days,” he said slowly, sounding unsure.

 

“Yeah? That’s not much further than last time then.”

 

He froze when Hanzo’s eyes locked on his, his gaze intense.

 

“He did not estimate by human standards.”

 

The sun was hot on McCree’s back when he looked ahead, seeing the first signs of a forest on the horizon. He didn’t know what to say so he went for humor.

 

“I’m not that slow, I’m sure it will be fine.”

 

The demon huffed again, as he was wont to do.

 

“You’d do well to be prepared for five days at least.”

 

Five days to meet a mysterious someone who  _ might  _ be able to help them.

 

McCree had to admit he was not enthusiastic about their chances…

 

\---------------------

 

_ Not enthusiastic  _ was the understatement of the century. Four days already and nothing but forest, forest, forest. That and those gnats buzzing around him all day and night had all but erased every little bit of patience he had.

 

He wasn’t even looking at his surroundings anymore, hadn’t been for hours, hoping that staring at his feet could make him forget that there was  _ still  _ no end of the forest in sight.

 

Hanzo abruptly stopped walking, surprising the hunter who had been lost in his own thoughts.

 

“McCree,” the demon said, sounding alarmed.

 

McCree looked up immediately and paused, unsure what he was seeing.

 

“Do you see that?” Hanzo asked.

 

McCree blinked, and blinked again, hoping it would somehow become clearer but it didn’t.

 

“I do,” he said instead, though he was not sure  _ what  _ he saw. For all intents and purposes the forest in front of them suddenly seemed to grow blurry, almost as if it was not more than illusion. “What is that?”

 

The demon hummed thoughtfully, walking up to the line that seemed to separate this part of the forest from whatever  _ that  _ was.

 

“It’s a warning. Whoever lives deeper within does not appreciate visitors,” Hanzo said calmly. He seemed apprehensive but also determined. McCree was just not sure about what.

 

“So, are we heading back? Or around?”

 

“No.” Hanzo turned to him then and McCree didn’t know how to read the expression on his face. “I think we found who we were looking for.”

 

McCree grew less enthusiastic by the minute.

 

“And who or what, in that case, might that be?”

 

Hanzo merely shook his head.

 

“I’m not sure yet but they seem powerful. The spell seems to cover much more than the immediate area.”

 

McCree paled a little as he saw Hanzo step through the barrier without hesitation. He had to take a deep breath himself before he dared following him.

 

“Is that good for us or bad though?” he asked as he took in their new surroundings.

 

There were still a few hours of sunlight left but this place didn’t seem to care about that. Everything was dark and gray as if everything had been robbed of its color. Funnily enough, it immediately reminded him of Petras, in a way.

 

“That depends on how hospitable they are,” Hanzo answered drily.

 

_ It’s a warning. _

 

McCree sighed. 

 

“Are you serious? People usually call me the reckless one.”

 

A soft chuckle reached his ears and he stared at the demon’s back in disbelief.

 

Despite everything Hanzo didn’t seem overly worried, so McCree tried to relax as well. It wasn’t easy when the place seriously just gave him the creeps.

 

And then the trees started moving. McCree did a double-take, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again, but the trees continued swaying in front of his eyes.

 

“Are you sure this place isn’t poisonous somehow?” he asked, trying in vain to make his eyes work properly again. “I’m pretty sure I’m starting to see things.”

 

He saw Hanzo following his line of sight before the demon slowed, falling in step right next to him.

 

“You aren’t,” he said asif that wasn’t one hell of a scary thing to say in that moment. “You’d do well to stay close to me though.”

 

“Why?” he asked, trying not to sound panicked. Goddamn, he had been a hunter all his life and it seemed like he still didn’t know anything.

 

“Nocturnal yews are very aggressive,” Hanzo stated calmly, way too calmly in McCree’s opinion.

 

“You’re talking about trees, right?”

 

A massive arm draped across McCree’s shoulder, pulling him closer to the demon. 

 

“Yes, one of the few species of demonic plants. There’s very few creatures they won’t attack,” Hanzo explained and with their closeness McCree could feel his voice vibrate through his entire being. “Luckily for you, one of them happen to be other demons.”

 

The weight resting on his shoulders made it hard to look up be he was almost certain Hanzo was grinning.

 

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

 

The demon chuckled.

 

“No, but it is a rather fortunate coincidence. If that’s how they decided to protect their territory, they definitely never accounted for a demon to come here.”

 

McCree hummed quietly, soaking in Hanzo’s warmth. Viewing it that way it was fortunate, and with the bulk of a demon basically wrapped around him it was hard to even feel threatened.

 

“I guess,” McCree relented hesitantly, wondering if he only felt warm or if he was blushing right now. Either way, he was glad Hanzo couldn’t see it. “Let’s just hope we find them soon, whoever they might be.”

 

\---------------------

 

It didn’t take long for McCree to completely lose track of time. The ghastly forest seemed to go on forever. Right until it didn’t anymore.

 

A clearing opened up in front of them, though it wasn’t so much a clearing as an equally creepy lake, or swamp, McCree actually couldn’t tell. Everything was covered in a thick white fog. All he really knew was that there was a single narrow bridge in front of them, almost taunting in its simplicity.

 

And even here small wisps of fog clawed their way onto the wooden boards of the bridge. 

 

“At this point I’m almost sure I don’t even wanna know who lives here,” McCree complained.

 

There at the end of the bridge, surrounded entirely by a blanket of fog, was a house. No one in their right mind would approach, much less decide to actually live here. Someone was trying his hardest to be as deterrent as possible and yet Hanzo and McCree were headed straight toward them.

 

McCree sighed.

 

“We have come this far. They can’t do much more than refuse to help us,” Hanzo reasoned.

 

“Or kill us.”

 

At that the demon only chuckled. Predictably. McCree was slowly growing used to the demon’s peculiar sense of humor.

 

“You still think in your hunter ways. You don’t kill someone just because they come knocking on your door. At worst you throw them out, don’t you think?”

 

McCree only sighed, louder this time.

 

“I don’t like this. It feels wrong,” he said. As if the emphasize his point he could feel his hair at the back of his neck stand on end. He stopped walking immediately, staring at what could  _ possibly  _ be considered the house’s porch with growing scepsis. 

 

Hanzo was right behind him. He could still feel the demon’s warmth against his back.

 

“Are you afraid?”

 

“No,” McCree replied immediately, “but I am absolutely sure we are about to run into a trap.”

 

He could feel Hanzo move, probably to scan their surroundings more thoroughly.

 

“Why do you say that?” he asked and McCree tried to be reassured by the fact that Hanzo didn’t seem to sense anything. But the fact remained that McCree  _ did _ .

 

Hanzo hummed and then tightened his hold on McCree’s shoulders.

 

“Let me go first then, just to make sure.”

 

McCree definitely had no objections to that. He was glad Hanzo held onto him though as he walked past him on the narrow bridge, keeping him from falling.

 

And then he entered the porch. As nothing happened Hanzo turned around to look at him with a raised eyebrow, as if saying “See?”

 

McCree grumbled as Hanzo stepped off to the side to give him space, but the unease in him only grew.

 

He took a deep breath, trying to shake off whatever had him so nervous. But when he took the last step onto the porch he froze, literally.

 

Panic settled over him when he realized he couldn’t move. But Hanzo had been fine!

 

Hanzo seemed to pick up that something was wrong but the door opened before he could move.

 

“What is it  _ now? _ ” an annoyed-sounding voice resounded from within the house and a moment later a slim figure stepped out. “A mutt. Really? I had hoped for something a little  _ more  _ at least.”

 

The figure was covered in a black cloak that made it hard to distinguish much about them. Their voice was deep but decisively feminine. As were the features that were mostly hidden by the literal witch’s hat on her head.

 

McCree felt the invisible shackles loosening, disappearing as if they had never been there in the first place.

 

“Shoo, go back from wherever you came from, stupid mutt.”

 

McCree wasn’t quick enough to recover from his shock but thankfully Hanzo was quick to take over.

 

“We apologize for coming here unannounced but we are in need of assistance,” the demon said politely.

 

The figure startled, apparently oblivious to Hanzo’s presence before he spoke up. When she turned around to focus on him McCree got a first good look at her. He caught a glance of red hair before he was distracted by her eyes widening in surprise.

 

“My, my. What could an  _ oni  _ possibly need my help for?”

 

Hanzo smiled faintly, possibly trying to appear as non-threatening as possible.

 

“We are looking for someone.”

 

The woman cocked her head slightly, again hiding most of her face from view.

 

“I am not an expert in tracking spells but I do know the area better than most, I suppose.” McCree thought he heard her sigh but he couldn’t be sure. “Go on, come on in then. No need to keep standing here,” she said then, ushering them both inside. When her gaze met McCree’s though she still looked as if he was not much more than dirt, a  _ mutt _ .

 

He tried to ignore it, but an unpleasant feeling settled deep in his gut. With how powerful she was it was quite possible that she could look right through him.

 

McCree looked around, distracting himself. The place was perfect for that purpose. He had honest to God never expected to meet an actual witch but if he had this was exactly what he’d have imagined their house to look like. Weird nick-nack in every cranny, flasks and pots filled with peculiar fluids and other things. He saw a wide variety of feathers and fangs and even  _ horns _ .

 

He didn’t need to see more to feel intimidated.

 

“You there,” the witch called, her eyes judging, “go take a bath before I have to throw you out for contaminating my  _ home _ . There’s a bathroom upstairs.”

 

McCree startled. He knew he smelled—four days out in the woods would do that to you—but that witch was almost scarily direct, or maybe she just didn’t like him. McCree would bet on the latter.

 

“But-”

 

The witch rolled her eyes, interrupting him immediately. 

 

“I’m sure your companion can explain your problem to me perfectly well on his own. Now go.”

 

McCree looked to Hanzo who looked sympathetic but nodded, obviously telling him it was fine for him to go. It was probably better, too, before he upset their host.

 

He almost didn’t see the circular stairs in the corner, as covered in nick nacks and weird ornaments as it was. McCree didn’t need to search for the bathroom though as the door literally flung open when he walked past. He shuddered, seriously hoping she wasn’t watching him in some way as he entered and closed the door behind him.

 

It was pleasantly warm and he turned around to see the bathtub filled with hot water. It was as tempting as it was unnerving. He decided that it was his priority to return to Hanzo though so he undressed quickly and stepped into the tub. The hot water was extremely soothing after days of relentless travelling but he tried not to get too distracted. Instead he started scrubbing down, getting rid of the worst of the dirt. In that moment he was almost envious that demons apparently hadn’t problems like that at all. During their whole journey Hanzo had never seemed especially tired. He slept when McCree slept but it never seemed like he  _ had  _ to and more like he was merely humoring the little mortal at his side.

 

McCree sighed, shaking off these thoughts. He realized he was tired. Today had been one hell of a mess and he just wanted to return to Hanzo and know what they would be doing from here. If that witch was at least worth all that trouble they had gone through.

 

He rinsed the last of the visible dirt from his skin before he got out. As magically as everything else of course there were also some towels prepared for him. He grabbed one and toweled down roughly. He had no patience to be more thorough right now. 

 

After dressing in his least dirty clothes—he hadn’t exactly been prepared for such a long journey when he had moved out to hunt Camomilla—he left the room and headed back down the stairs.

 

He was just in time to see the witch crouched over a low table, her hands hovering over what seemed like a map, though not one McCree could read.

 

Her eyes were closed and she seemed oblivious to McCree’s return but Hanzo who stood across from her threw him a soft smile. McCree joined him, watching whatever spell the witch was currently lost in. He noticed that one of her hands was weirdly disfigured and glowing as it flew over the map in slow, incomprehensible patterns.

 

After a moment she stopped abruptly, her eyes opening again.

 

“You should have more luck in the north. There in the mountains is a castle that is known to be inhabited by vampires. The last clan actually inhabiting it died out a few centuries ago, though, and it has been empty ever since. If any place would be of interest to an old one on the run it would be there.”

 

Her gaze drifted to McCree then, as if she had just noticed his presence. She eyed his clothes before focusing on his still wet hair.

 

“My, you really aren’t domesticated yet, are you? I left towels for you to  _ use  _ them, not so you have something to look at.”

 

On cue McCree felt another towel drop onto his hair and Hanzo, the bastard, had the gall to laugh.

 

“I got it, okay?” he said, trying his hardest not to blush as he moved to dry his hair more thoroughly.

 

“Thank you, Lady Moira. That is of great help,” Hanzo said politely, even bowing slightly.

 

Moira—of course they had exchanged names in his absence—seemed surprised, almost unsure how to react. In the end she averted her gaze.

 

“It’s fine. You may stay the night too. You won’t get anywhere today, especially not without that mutt catching a cold from not  _ drying off  _ properly,” she said and although her words still sounded demeaning, McCree had the distinct feeling that  _ she  _ was the embarrassed one.

 

“That’s generous of you, thank you,” Hanzo said, without missing a beat.

 

McCree hadn’t even known he could be that much of a sycophant. Then again, there was much he didn’t know about the demon. The witch, on the other hand, had immediately recognized him as an oni.

 

“I prepared a room for you upstairs. Now go, and let me work.” 

 

Hanzo nodded, even though she had already looked away. He turned to McCree then, that soft smile still on his face.

 

“Let’s go, you must be tired.”

 

McCree didn’t even answer. He just grabbed Hanzo’s hand and pulled him along.

 

He had had enough of that whole witch business for today, or forever really.

 

McCree didn’t even startle when another door flew open right in front of them, revealing a room with two beds. McCree merely wondered if the bedding was new or if the witch had just magically let two entirely new beds appear in her home.

 

“I’m sorry,” Hanzo said gravely.

 

McCree spun around, completely caught off guard by the apology.

 

“What for?”

 

“You were right about the trap. If she hadn’t turned out as… tolerating as she is, you might have been in severe danger. I forgot that whatever is safe for me is not necessarily safe for you. Since the trapping spell had no power over me I didn’t even sense it. I’m sorry.”

 

McCree was speechless. He opened his mouth to speak only to realize that he didn’t know what.

 

He took Hanzo’s hand instead, seeing his own hand dwarfed by the others. It was calming in its weirdness. He was growing used to Hanzo and their differences.

 

“It’s fine. You did what you could to shield me. Both in the forest and here. You can’t know everything and I don’t blame you.”

 

The demon looked at him with forlorn empty eyes.

 

“I’m sorry either way.”

 

McCree smiled softly.

 

“That’s okay. Your apology is accepted though, no need to be so down.” It took a moment but eventually Hanzo mirrored his smile, if faintly. “It worked out, didn’t it? I even got a bath and a soft bed out of it,” McCree said, trying to lighten the mood.

 

The demon chuckled softly.

 

“You didn’t seem overly happy over the bath  _ offer _ ,” he replied grinning.

 

McCree chose to ignore that comment.

 

“What did you talk about anyway? What did she want for her help?”

 

Hanzo cocked his head, as if honestly confused by the question.

 

“Nothing. I explained the situation and she agreed to help.”

 

“Just like that?”

 

McCree couldn’t believe it. If he had been alone he had no doubt that she would have thrown him out without a word.

 

“She does seem to consider it an honor having an oni come all the way to meet her.”

 

At that McCree rolled his eyes.

 

“Figures. Lady Moira, huh?”

 

“There’s no harm in being polite,” Hanzo said quickly but he was smirking. “Though she does seem rather averse to you.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I can live with that if it gets us results,” McCree said, trying to seem less bothered than he was. “Do you think she will be there though? Camomilla, I mean?”

 

Hanzo seemed to consider that for a moment.

 

“It’s safe, it’s deserted, and isolated from the rest of the world. It does sound like a place Camomilla would be drawn to after what happened.”

 

There was nothing McCree could say to that. He still wondered if he should ask exactly what Hanzo’s connection to her was or if he would just have to wait and see.

 

“I just hope this will be over soon,” he muttered.

 

“Not your idea of a successful mission?” Hanzo asked, smirking again.

 

“Definitely not. Right now I just want to  _ sleep _ .” 

 

Hanzo patted to bed closest to him. “You can, I’m not stopping you,” he said, getting up to move over to the other bed. “Good night, McCree.”

 

“Yeah,” McCree murmured, settling down on the bed, “good night.”

 

\---------------------

 

Moira had sent them off the next day, in her own gruff but weirdly accommodating way. McCree had stumbled upon her and Hanzo sitting together, leaning weirdly close. He hadn’t managed to figure out exactly what exactly they had done there but he decided not to ponder over it too long. Those two had a weird understanding that McCree couldn’t hope to grasp.

 

That also wasn’t the problem. In fact, it was so far from the current problem, it wasn’t even worth mentioning.

 

Moira had been right. There were mountains in the north. There even was a castle, at least what little McCree had seen when they had had a better view of the top. The moment they started their ascend though he almost began to think that it had been but an illusion. Rocky way didn’t even begin to cover it. It was hell. There had already been several obstacles he just wouldn’t have been able to overcome without Hanzo at his side. Obviously, neither of them had been prepared for that kind of terrain.

 

Just when they had finally found a spot that allowed for a short rest, they had come about the one thing Moira did not tell them about: mountain lions, and guessing from the abnormal size of the one currently locked in a bloody struggle with Hanzo, it was not a normal one either way. Surely Moira should have known about freaking  _ werelions  _ in the area.

 

The oni might have been superior in brute strength but the werelion was both quick and agitated and very much determined to defend its territory.

 

McCree fumbled helplessly with Peacekeeper’s holster, knowing he was just as likely to hit Hanzo is he decided to shoot. 

 

The demon staggered, a deep, bloody gash on his arm where the cat's massive claws had found their mark. It was unfortunately not the first and it would no be the last as the demon managed to pin his opponent to the ground several times already but never for long. 

 

Incapable of immobilizing the werelion completely there were always either viciously snapping fangs or claws striking dangerously close so he had to abandon his old on his opponent to duck out of the way. And McCree could only look on, knowing this was not a battle he could get involved in, even though every new bloody gash bruising the demon's skin had him out of his mind with the need to throw himself into the fray.

 

There was nothing he could do though… at least, not like he was now.

 

Hanzo toppled the werelion to ground once more but the resulting position was far from advantageous for him. Both of the lion’s hind legs were free to move and the lion all but curled into itself to get them up high enough on the demon's chest to deliver a well-placed kick that had the demon stumbling back as blood burst forth from another set of deadly claw marks.

 

So much blood,  _ too  _ much blood. Even with regenerative abilities the demon could not possibly sustain much more damage without repercussions.

 

And it all had gone so well until now. McCree hated it, hated it with every fiber of his being but he had to act!

 

A deafening roar filled the air and the werelion swiveled around, all but forgetting about its opponent struggling to get back to his feet.

 

There was no time to prepare for the newly approaching danger as a massive body slammed into the lion , sending it toppling to the ground with a feral snarl.

 

Its opponent was bigger, covered in brown fur all the way from the tip of its ears to the tail raised in clear agitation. A wolf. Not an opponent the lion would have chosen to fight but as it was there was little chance but to fight it off  or lose and so the lion threw itself into a battle of snapping fangs and mindlessly clawing paws. The werewolf was stronger, though, and not yet tired from a previous fight. 

 

The lion not once managed to get back on its feet, could do nought but defend its neck from the deadly set of fangs of its opponent, trying to wind itself out of the wolf's grasp.

 

Just when it seemed like it could get away the wolf's fangs sunk into deeply into its leg, determined not to let go.

 

The lion hissed and trashed, pulling away with all of its strength and finally got free. It did not care about the chunk of flesh still caught between the wolf's fangs as it struggled back to its feet and started a limping retreat back into the mountains, turning its back only once it was sure the wolf would not give chase. Then it was gone.

 

Hanzo could only look on. The werewolf's tail was still raised, clearly agitated. 

 

It was dangerous to approach but Hanzo did so all the same slowly, unthreatening. The wolf watched him skeptically, growling threateningly as it continued to gnaw on the chunk of flesh it had ripped from the lion’s leg.

 

"McCree..." Hanzo said softly, stepping closer still. The wolf's eyes gleamed viciously but the growling died down.

 

"... Jesse."

 

The wolf's ears flicked back, confused,  _ scared _ .

 

"It's okay, Jesse. I'm safe. You're safe."

 

The wolf, whined, dropping the bloody chunk mindlessly as he lowered his head onto his front paws.

 

Hanzo relaxed, closing the remaining distance to kneel next to the wolf.

 

"It's okay," he repeated softly, petting the wolf's head softly.

 

Jesse's size was truly impressive. Even though Hanzo had always had his suspicions—Moira’s reaction had basically confirmed them for him— he was still surprised at the sight currently presented to him.

 

Jesse's tail started wagging softly as the petting continued, but a soft whine filled the air and Jesse got up, pressing closer to Hanzo.

 

"What is it?" he asked but was answered when the wolf's long tongue started lapping at the bloody gashes the lion had left on his body, another miserable whine escaping him.

 

"It's okay, Jesse. I will heal," he assured the wolf, continuing his petting even though the massive body of a wolf currently trying its darndest to climb into his lap was not the most pleasant experience. After a while Jesse gave up, settling down, satisfied with only his head resting in the demon's lap.

 

He still grumbled, clearly dissatisfied with Hanzo's wounded state but apparently accepted that he could not help with that.

 

"Can you turn back?" Hanzo asked after a while but Jesse only whined again and the demon was not entirely sure if Jesse even really understood him at all.

 

"Still unused to the transformation, huh?" Hanzo wondered, continuing his mindless petting. It was supposed to calm Jesse but it was also weirdly relaxing for Hanzo himself. Jesse's fur was soft beneath his fingers and much like in his human form Jesse emanated heat like a furnace.

 

It was weirdly comfortable and not knowing when Jesse would turn back Hanzo accepted that he probably wouldn't move anytime soon.

 

He moved Jesse's head just long enough so he could get more comfortable, as much as the rocky ground allowed, but Jesse immediately got up, excited little sounds leaving him as he all but curled around Hanzo the moment the demon laid down.

 

Jesse whined and Hanzo reached behind him blindly to pet the wolf's flank once more.

 

"It's okay, Jesse," he mumbled, reassuring the wolf one last time before closing his eyes.

 

\---------------------

 

Waking up was disorienting. His back hurt, his head hurt and the sun was too bright in his eyes.

 

Jesse didn’t remember going to bed. He didn’t even remember the sun setting. All he remembered was mountains, those goddamn mountains and…

 

His head hurt too much to remember any details but he thought he remembered a massive lion.

 

“Are you awake?”

 

Jesse lifted his head when he realized that sitting up was too much of a task.

 

“ _ Damn _ ,” he cursed, “what happened?”

 

Hanzo settled down next to him, offering him a flask of water.

 

“I would say that you managed to save me,” he said, pausing shortly, “but in doing so you did not manage to keep your secret.”

 

It took Jesse a moment to process but then he groaned.

 

“I had no choice. I didn’t want you to know. I don’t want  _ anyone  _ to know.”

 

Hanzo watched him, lending a hand when Jesse tried to sit up once more.

 

“I already knew. I suspected it, at least. I just did not expect you to be so… young. When were you turned?”

 

Jesse sighed.

 

“A year ago, maybe. It doesn’t matter,” he said, trying to divert the topic to something else. Hanzo wouldn’t have it.

 

“But you’re still a hunter?”

 

“Yeah… at least until someone figures out.” Jesse shook his head, trying to sort his head. “I know I have prejudices against people like you. It comes with being a hunter, seeing the worst of the worst of your kind. But you also have prejudices against us, you know? We don’t just kill anybody. We knew of Camomilla. Did you ever stop to think why we only ever got active when we heard what had happened? We aren’t evil Hanzo, we are just trying to help.”

 

“It’s alright,” Hanzo said, softly stroking through McCree’s hair, like he had done before, “I never thought you were evil. Misguided maybe, but I know not all of you are.”

 

Jesse practically melted under Hanzo’s touch but he couldn’t relax. He sighed again.

 

“That was not how I imagined today go. How far is it to the top, do you think?” he asked, changing to topic back to the things they should actually focus on right now.

 

Hanzo’s hand stilled, those empty eyes widening in surprise.

 

“Are you sure you’re alright? We can rest here for a while. I doubt we will be attacked again.”

 

Jesse shook his head decisively.

 

“No. No, we’re so close. I just want to get this over with. Then we have all the time in the world to recover.”

 

Hanzo looked unsatisfied with that answer.

 

“You’re right,” he said hesitantly, “but…”

 

To prove his point Jesse got up, ignoring his body’s protests.

 

“Do you think Camomilla will give us trouble? She does  _ know  _ you, right?”

 

Hanzo sighed, deflating where he sat. “No. I don’t think she will.” The demon’s hands turned to fists in his lap, seemingly upset. He rose to his feet with his usual grace before Jesse could question him further. “Alright, let’s go see Camomilla. It shouldn’t be far.”

 

\---------------------

 

The castle at the top of the mountain was magnificent. There was no other word for it. There were no windows which led to the conclusion that it wasn’t only owned by vampires but had been built by them as well. As such it was indeed fitting that Camomilla would withdraw here.

 

Hanzo had turned increasingly somber as they approached the top. Jesse couldn’t blame him. He still didn’t know  _ what  _ their connection was but no matter what it was, it had to be hard. They had come here with the goal to put her down. At least that was Jesse’s goal and after everything, there was nothing that could deter him, and he trusted that Hanzo wasn’t here to stop him, at least. If that had been his goal, he would have been better off ditching Jesse along the way to warn Camomilla.

 

He had done none of that. Jesse watched him stare at the castle gate, unmoving.

 

After a while Hanzo sighed and turned to him.

 

“Will you allow me to talk to her? Just, stay back for a while?” he asked imploringly. It surprised Jesse. There was no doubt in his mind that Hanzo would accept his decision, whatever it may be at this point.

 

It was exactly why Jesse would let him. In the end, he realized, this was not his business. It was his job, yes. But that was all it was. He didn’t know Camomilla but Hanzo did.

 

“Sure, do what you have to do. Should I… should I wait here?”

 

Hanzo’s eyes widened. “Please. In return I… I will finish the job. In fact, it’s what I came here for.”

 

At this point Jesse wasn’t surprised, not really.

 

“An old score to settle?” he asked but the demon looked too somber for that to be the case.

 

“No, I made some 200 years ago. I am here to keep it.”

 

Jesse whistled softly. “That’s a long time to hold onto a promise.”

 

McCree startled when a blade started to materialize in the demon’s hand out of nowhere: a sword, with a weirdly green shimmer to it.

 

Hanzo was staring down at it, reverently running a finger across the blunt edge, as if he hadn’t seen it himself in a long time.

 

“Yes,” he said slowly, still transfixed on the blade, “that’s why I am going to fulfill it now.”

 

Jesse stepped back, out of the way.

 

“Take your time. I won’t interfere,” he promised. “I’ll wait here.”

 

“Thank you, Jesse. You might not realize it but I am really grateful for your help.”

 

Jesse’s breath stopped for a moment. The demon’s expression was more open and vulnerable than he had ever seen it before. He wanted to say that he had done nothing, really, except follow Hanzo’s lead. The oni would have found his way here, with or without Jesse. But at the same he didn’t dare to say anything.

 

Hanzo nodded softly and then he turned, opening the massive gate all by himself.

 

Jesse looked on, catching a glimpse of a figure standing there, in the middle of the hall, before the door fell closed again.

 

Jesse walked over to a big stone he had seen earlier and settled down to wait.

 

\---------------------

 

The sun had set when Hanzo eventually returned. The blade he had entered with was nowhere to be seen. Instead Hanzo held onto a small urn.

 

He handed it to Jesse wordlessly.

 

“If you need proof of her death,” he said curtly.

 

Jesse accepted it quietly. He had not asked for it. In fact, he most likely wouldn’t need it but he was grateful regardless.

 

“Your promise is fulfilled now?” he asked quietly instead.

 

“Yes.”

 

They both fell quiet and Jesse’s gaze wandered to the sky, dark blue and full of stars. There was also the moon, almost full at this point though he found it didn’t worry him as much as it would have just a day ago.

 

“What are your plans from here?” Jesse asked, revelling in the way those empty eyes focused on him.

 

“I will return to my original quest. There’s someone I still need to find.”

 

Jesse remembered Hanzo mentioning that at some point, shortly after they had started their journey. Somehow, Jesse found he wasn’t eager to return. There was an idea forming in the back of his head. It was stupid, he knew. But he also remembered that his last stupid idea had actually worked out pretty well, apart from the fact that he know shared his secret with someone else at least.

 

“No matter what you said, I know I was pretty useless to you, but… you know. Would you mind if I accompanied you a little longer?”

 

Hanzo’s eyes widened, caught off-guard once more.

 

“Why… why would you want to do that?” he asked, and Jesse laughed at how earnestly he voiced that question.

 

“I know we all have our prejudices but, as I see it, the only way to get rid of them is to get to know each other, right? And there’s a lot I still don’t know about you.” He paused them, looking at Hanzo, his size, his skin, the empty eyes. “I would like to know more about you.”

 

Those wide eyes kept looking at him and for a moment he thought Hanzo would not react at all, but then that expression softened, growing oh so vulnerable again.

 

“Then you may. If I may learn more about you in return as well.”

 

Jesse smiled.

 

“Sure thing, darling.”

 

The urn ended up in his bag, but it was soon forgotten about altogether...


End file.
